Disclaimer: I don't own them, though I wish I did….Or at least Batsy and GL and Flash…Yeah, the Batman, GL, and Flash…and my own private island…
Brian: …I just go the worst vision…..
A/N: Ok, I'm going to take a leaf out of a friend's book here…::drops to knees:: please, please forgive for taking so long to write this chapter! I've been busy, and…well, honestly…my attention span isn't all that great. Especially when a book, or a video game, or a TV beckons…and moving did not help. (nor getting grounded from writing, but…that's another story…) Also note that I've gone back and edited a ...few details in previous chapters. ::chuckles::
Shattering Eternal: Chapter Four
Shayera pulled a strand of her hair behind her ears as she entered the room, carefully balancing the tray on her arms. H'ryah looked up from where she and Herin sat on the blue comforter of one bed as she instructed Herin on flexing his wings so they wouldn't be as stiff. When Herin looked up and saw Shayera, he immediately pulled his wings in as close as possible and bowed his head, his hair falling over his shoulders.
"Are you both ok?" They nodded simultaneously.
"Yes, Lieutenant," Herin said.
"I thought you might be hungry, so I brought up some food," she tried as neither said anything more, taking the tray to the desk closest to the bed they sat. "I realize that it's not familiar to you, but I can assure you, the chef is an expert, and the food is delicious."
H'ryah tentatively stood first, sitting back down at the chair at the desk as her brother retrieved the chair from the second desk. He brought it back and set it beside hers wordlessly, then picked up one of the forks. He glanced to the side at his sister, and then back down at the unfamiliar plates of spaghetti looking back up at them.
"It won't bite, you know," Shayera told him quietly, resting a hand on his shoulder. He nodded again, starting at it as he assessed the food, then clumsily attempted to twirl a small bit onto his fork, the noodles slipping from it the first few times. He frowned in frustration as he stabbed at it again.
He turned to the side again, locking eyes with his sister as he raised the fork to his mouth. Herin stuffed the food into his mouth, his eyes shut tightly as he began chewing.
Shayera struggled not to double up in laughter as his eyes rocketed open.
"This….is…..amazing!" he exclaimed. Continuing to chew, he gave his sister the go-ahead with another nod, and she took a bite from her own plate, immediately exclaiming in the same manner as her brother. The two began to eat enthusiastically, the food swiftly starting to disappear from the plates.
"There's plenty more if you would like; you can slow down," Shayera smiled. "And while I wish that I could take the credit, sadly, I can't."
"If you're not the one responsible for this," H'ryah wondered aloud around a mouthful of food, "then who is?"
"That would be John."
"Who is John?" asked H'ryah.
Shayera paused. "He is a……very close friend." She continued to chew in silence, so Shayera assumed she was satisfied with the answer, and the subject was closed.
"You mean like Katar?"
Herin nearly choked on his food, his storm gray eyes becoming saucers as he spun on his sister. "H'ryah!" His sister had already turned back to her plate, her face quickly flushing as Herin shot her a reproving glance for a long moment before he finally faced Shayera apologetically. "Lieutenant, I'm –"
"No, Herin," Shayera held up a hand to stop him. "Please; just…Shayera. And…your sister is in no wrong," she added, shaking her head slightly to emphasis her point. Herin shifted uncomfortably as he hesitantly turned back around, studying the two of them out the corner of his eyes.
H'ryah tilted her head upward so that Shayera's face was clearly in her range of view. She locked eyes with Shayera, confusion etched into her soft features. "It's just…the way you speak about him –it's so pure, so full of joy."
When Shayera only continued to watch her in amusement, she swallowed again, courage firmly set. She breathed deeply as she tried to organize the erratic mess of ideas cluttering her mind.
"There's so much…emotion when his name passes your lips, and all the things you say about him…" H'ryah conveyed finally, eyebrows knitted together. "There's a light; you just …shine whenever he's brought up. …you're so different. You're…you're another person." Frowning, her eyes narrowed to stormy slits, and she looked to her brother. "Herin, please; you know what I mean."
"Well…" Herin responded awkwardly, and then shifted uncomfortably again as Shayera refocused her mixed gaze of amusement and something else unreadable to him.
"I guess…I mean…" he gulped slightly, fidgeting in his seat. Looking down, he cleared his throat again. "I suppose that you do. You…are a different person, at some points. You even sound…childlike, if you'll forgive me."
"I sound child-like?" Shayera felt one of her eyebrows rise to her hair line.
"But it's true!" H'ryah added quietly. "A child's voice… is one of the few joys of our world; you know that. It's lost as we mature, but… your voice sounds exactly like a child's; I mean, not all the time, just when you speak about him. It's so light and full of wonder, and happiness, and it just has a natural music to it…and…" she glanced up at Shayera, her eyes pleading, asking her to understand what she was saying, but locking her eyes on Shayera's again, she found they were dancing with fire. Gray orbs widened in shock as H'ryah finally grasped the secret waltzing brightly in Shayera's clear green eyes. Herin's stared between the two of them blankly as H'ryah opened and closed her mouth, unable to speak.
His throat tightened, air unable to pass, and he felt his skin heat as he pushed his chair away from the desk and stood, still watching the two of them in confusion as he began to feel the space around him become tighter.
"What's wrong?" He'd never heard his voice so high, but H'yrah seemed to have finally found her tongue again. He felt the blood rush from the rest of his body to his head at an alarming rate.
"…you love him."
Herin's mind shut down for a moment that seemed to drag on forever before it flew dizzyingly back to the moments after she arrived back home from her other 'job' and they could finally wander less precariously about the house, could finally eat something warm, something other than the carefully prepared and planned and easy to access snacks Shayera prepared for them after she'd roused them from their sleep every morning and helped them stumble to their showers and watched with such maternal grace as they ate until she was satisfied they'd had a good feel of breakfast.
There was a mantle place above the fireplace; it didn't brightly gleam often because she usually kept the curtain on all the windows pulled tightly closed throughout the apartment, but he'd seen it that way before, and the reflection of the light made it only all the more beautiful. There were guardians, little statue angels that littered the mantle, that stood proudly, watching carefully over their charges, the stilled and frozen images of the Flash, Batman, Superman, Martian Manhunter, Wonder Woman; the Earth's heroes, all captured and frozen eternally at their proudest moment, their warmth so strong it stole away from their simple frames and into the bones of those in the room.
There were a few pictures of children, too. Young children; round faces; large eyes; chubby fingers; simple, undefined features; baby hair wildly tumbling over some of their heads. H'ryah had asked who they were; she had always been more daring than he. Herin still shivered slightly at the thought.
He'd always been careful to avoid all personal issues, but H'ryah…Herin himself didn't like the chilling feeling he got from interfering and inferring about Shayera; it unsettled his stomach, both from the uneasiness of breaking every principal he'd ever known and from the slight twinge of envy that H'ryah was incapable of feeling that same uneasiness. She had never encountered the grounds they were placed on before.
There was so much lost on his generation; that's what Shayera always said.
He felt guilt when he allowed his mind to remind him of what else he'd pushed to the back of the darkest compartments of his mind; there was picture after picture of the entire League…except for the Green Lantern.
There were only pictures of John.
Herin fell lifelessly back into his chair, barely noticing when Shayera quietly exited the room. She padded her way to the kitchen; she suddenly felt… warm… and she needed a drink desperately.
Shayera stopped suddenly, turning as an all too familiar knock sounded at her door. Straightening the loose t-shirt over her sweats, she moved toward the door. She heard footsteps, and cautiously, she checked over her shoulder; they, at least, were staying out of sight. A little time was all she would need, hopefully. She unlocked and opened the door.
"Nheir." John's smiling face greeted her in her tongue. She leaned forward, John catching her lips chastely with his own for a brief moment before she stepped aside to let him in, sweeping a strand of hair that had gotten loose from the messy bun she'd put her hair in behind an ear. John closed the door behind him before pulling her to him, holding her against his chest as he gently kissed her forehead, eyes closed. Shayera melted into his touch.
"You're early."
"I've got bad news," John whispered sadly in her ear. Her eyes met his in disappointment.
"What?"
"Batman wants everyone in DC, A.S.A.P; says he got an anonymous tip. The Princess is collecting the Kid right now."
"What about Superman?"
"I guess he's already there."
"Then why does he need us?"
"I, for one, am not about to question him; he's got certain abilities, you know? And besides that, he's already aggravated because Di's a little upset he's missing his turn tonight with Joseph and Joshua and –you know how he is about work and those kids."
Shayera frowned slightly. "Why'd they both have to leave?" John shrugged.
John shrugged his massive shoulders again. "Who knows? He didn't mention that much, but I heard Clark bring up something about Lois being pissed off for him insisting she and the kids stay at the manor with Alfred, too. Flash isn't too happy about leaving Chris and Adan, either." John's brows knitted together for the briefest period in confusion before he smiled gently. "One thing I do know for sure, however, is the sooner you get into your gear and we get our tails there and do our job, the sooner we can come back and relax over a nice dinner."
Shayera reached up and trailed the back of her hand along John's jaw line, then brushed her fingertips over his lips.
He grasped her hand and kissed her fingers. "This weekend, I was thinking; maybe we can go back to the lake. We can spend it together, you know?" He kissed her fingers gently again. "Just the two of us."
Shayera smiled, brushed a kiss over his jaw line and whispered in his ear. "I think I'd like that."
Herin glanced down to the floor as he leaned against the frame of the doorway for support as realization and the familiar gravelly tones trading words with Shayera hit him with the force of a Gordanian cruiser.
He couldn't look at H'ryah, just behind him, her head above his own, because he knew he wouldn't be able to look at himself right then, or for a long time after that. And he knew that H'ryah couldn't look at him, because he knew her, and he knew that she wouldn't be able to look at herself either.
Because they both knew what Shayera didn't, had known before the whole game had started, what Shayera wouldn't know until it was too late.
Shayera wasn't going to return.
Not as the same Shayera they'd come to know, at least; that was over.
And they couldn't do anything; everything had already been set into motion.
Raven fumbled with the lock as the cool metal slipped between her thin fingers; usually, she had no problem whatsoever with these types of things, but as her fingers trembled, she began to get more frustrated with the thing as it refused to comply. Finally, the lock gave, and the chain slackened. Hastily, Raven gathered the artistically carved locket and its attached chain up, cautiously stuffing it into her pocket and falling back into the plush blue seat, light footsteps echoing in her ears. She groaned inwardly; she did not feel like talking to anyone at the moment.
"Dad says you need to eat." The voice demanded that Raven do as she was told, and held only the slightest bit of concern. Raven scowled.
"I'm not hungry."
Silence hung in the well lit room.
"What's your problem?"
Raven closed her eyes, exhaling deeply as she began to mentally count to ten. "What do you want, Christina?"
"Me? I want to be able to come in here, and not see you sitting there moping like the world has come to an end."
Raven clenched her fists.
They knew how her temper could get, and yet they still pushed it. She was not going to be held responsible should she bite off someone's head. Specifically, Chris's.
Chris folded her arms over her pink overalls, and marched from her place in the door way over to Raven with all the authority a seven-and-a-half year old could possibly posses.
"Why do you like him so much, anyway?"
"Why?" Raven repeated. "Why do you hate him so much?"
Chris scowled at Raven's bowed head. "That's low, Raven; really low." She glared at Raven's dark head. "It's not that big of a deal. It's not like he's dead."
Raven stood up quickly, almost knocking the chair she sat in over and into the pale blue wall. "'Not like he's dead.'? Look at him, Christina; look!" Chris looked down and away from Raven's slowly coloring face. Screaming in exasperation, she grabbed the slightly older girl by her shoulders and shook her. "Christina!"
"I don't want to!" she screamed, tightly screwing her eyes shut.
"You have to!"
"Stop it!"
"You need to, Christina!" Raven yelled back, spinning her around. Chris reluctantly opened her eyes, immediately wishing she could shut them again. Ishan laid drowning under snow white covers on his over-sized bed, numerous wires forming a tangled pattern as they ran from him to continuously beeping machines, their monitoring of little or of no importance to Chris as she didn't understand what they were for.
His chest rose slowly, the skin frighteningly barely contrasting against the blankets piled on him, more wires attached to his chest; his wings, carefully cleaned and bandaged, lay outstretched under his suddenly smaller body, the normal gray plumage's color sickeningly drained.
Chris paused, going limp in Raven's grasp for a moment, her green eyes wavering as she watched in silence. Screaming, she tore from Raven.
"I don't need to do anything," she hissed quietly, balling her fists at her sides as her voice slowly rose. "Don't you get it? He's fine, Raven! He's always just fine!"
"You don't know that!" Raven screeched, feeling tears welling up in her eyes. "You can't know that! You can't!"
"You can't know, either! You don't know that he's not!" Chris stomped her feet in frustration, her words getting caught behind the lump in her throat. "Don't you see? He has to be; he always has to be!"
"Liar."
"Brat."
"Witch."
Chris's eyebrows lowered, her eyes narrowing to green slits. "Dope."
Raven screamed in anger, rushing toward her, planning to solidly punch the slightly older girl. She was halted half-way through carrying out her plan as she suddenly found herself suspended in mid-air, a scowl on her face as she realized Chris was in the same predicament.
"Christina Madelyn West, why in the world are you screaming?"
She lessened her glare at Raven only fractionally as she swung in her father's grasp. "Ask her." She pointed an accusing finger at Raven.
Wally turned to her, eyebrow raised in question. "Raven? What's wrong?"
"She doesn't care, Uncle Wally," Raven pouted.
"Care about what, sweetheart?"
"She doesn't care what happens to anyone!" she folded her arms across her chest. "She's just selfish."
Wally sighed, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. He lowered himself to the floor, sitting on the fluffy beige carpet, carefully situating either girl beside him. "Look, girls," he paused, his voice low and harder than he wanted as he began, "I'm sure that…everyone cares a great deal about the rest of this family, ok? This….is not something we ever planned for, and we're all dealing with it in our own ways. Maybe for you, babe," he turned to Chris, "you're way of dealing with it is to ignore it. I know that's just your impulse, but…it's not good for you. It makes other feel like you really don't care, even when you do, understand?" Chris nodded hesitantly, sniffing silently as she laid against her father's chest. "And you, sweetheart; you're worried, and you don't mind showing that; but you need to understand that just because everybody's not going about things the same way as you are doesn't mean they don't care, too. Do you see that?" Raven's watery eyes closed tightly.
"Yes, Uncle Wally," she whispered, leaning into his chest, too. She sniffed for a moment before asking into his shirt, "…why? Why did this have to happen? Why did it have to be him?" She gazed up at him.
"Why did it have to be us?"
"We haven't had enough heart-ache, apparently; I guess Life isn't through with us just yet." Wally squeezed them gently. They sat in silence, the only sound that of the constant, faint beeps and Ishan's slow, steady breathing. Raven and Chris continued to burry their heads into Wally's chest as he looked down.
Three heads shot up suddenly, hearts pounding away in their chests as franticly as the suddenly earsplitting beeping.
"Make it stop!" Chris shrieked, clamping her hands over her ears. Raven did likewise.
Wally rocketed upward, carefully leaving the girls on the floor.
He tuned-out the girls' cries of question with a twang of guilt, trying to piece together the answer to the questions himself. His eyes swiftly made a round of the monitoring machines, he heart sinking as they settled on the one causing the panic.
Raven and Chris had quieted by then, the chilling silence surrounding Wally clearly informing them something was seriously wrong.
Wally tried to swallow pass the lump in his throat, opening his mouth repeatedly to speak, but failing. He swallowed again, shaking his head desperately.
"Go get Dick," he managed. "Now."
"But what's going on? Where are we going?" Bryant frowned, fighting subtly against Dick's hold as low thunder rolled over the sky, the magnified resonance of soft, silky feathers swiftly beating up and down, accompanying a constantly moving swarm that blocked whatever limited light might have been offered another night to the flooded streets below.
"Joshua, for once in your life, shut up and listen to someone." Bryant didn't respond, or even glare; glancing back at him, Colton realized that Bryant, maybe for first time in his life, was honestly scared.
"It's late," Tim ruminated. "Are you sure we should do this now?"
"We don't have a choice." He looked to Shayera. "If we don't leave tonight, we won't be able to leave tomorrow, and then it'll be too late." Tim gazed downward, his steady breathing condensing in little clouds before his face.
"Do you think we can make it all the way there?"
"We have to." He shivered involuntarily at the icy tone of Wally's voice. Had to? What if it wasn't possible?
The seconds seemed to stretch to hours, the hours to an eternity as their walk finally came to an end, a set of the heavy golden gates built into the barrier around the city rising into view, menacing in the black of the night. Shayera glanced ahead; a few members of the military stood near the gates, heavy lanterns hanging at intervals high above their heads, the light bouncing eerily off of the gate and changing small pockets of darkness into daylight as the officials tried to manage the excessive amount of panicking Thanagarians and humans trying desperately to remove themselves from the approaching danger.
"What about –"
"Lieutenant." Maliciousness dripping from every syllable, the low, level voice interrupted Tim's abrupt questioning.
Shayera stiffened and came to a halt.
Clad in white, dark eyes narrowed behind the gold mask, a female emerged from the thicks of the crowd into the light, a smirk firmly in place on her lips.
Shayera scowled. "Paran."
The smirk on her face grew. "In the flesh and feathers. Funny, you know, I thought you'd burned with that little earthling boyfriend of yours."
Wally gripped Shayera's free arm. "She's not worth it."
"I'd listen to him if I were you." She began to near them, her gait slow. "In case you haven't noticed since you've been in hiding, you're not the ones in control anymore. Really, Truth be told, the only reason you're still living is because of that dearly departed, crazy-ass Bat and the surprisingly strong hold he had on this pile of trash you called a city."
"Wench!" Tim spat viciously at Paran. She turned inquisitively to him, the reddening of his face invisible in the dark he remained standing in. Dick gave him only the slightest of nudges, feeling the blood begin to boil in his own veins.
"You should have been dead a long time ago," Shayera growled through gritted teeth.
"Oh, don't worry, sweetheart," Paran smiled, ignoring the glare she was given. "You will be soon enough."
Ishan's green eyes suddenly shone brightly as they moved up to Paran's face in what could only be interpreted as a glare. Paran glanced back down at him.
"Oh, that's rich."
Wally quickly stepped between the two as Shayera's eyes flared. A shadow fell over Paran's form, and she hastily took a few steps back as the shadow gained wings and shortened, its owner coming closer.
"Dai." The name was spoken bitterly, the irritation with the person showing in Paran's voice even if not in her expression under her helmet, tucking her wings down behind her reluctantly.
The others looked up. The man wasn't tall by Thanagarian or human standards, but the air about him suggested otherwise as his eyes, dark under the shadow of his helmet, roamed quickly over their faces. He suddenly pulled his wings in behind him, simultaneously lowering them as if from view for the briefest period when he saw Shayera.
"Lieutenant." Unlike Paran, the slightly melodic tone he spoke with gave no signs of disdain. Shayera did not reply.
"Leaving? These are friends, then?" He didn't wait for an answer before turning to Pan. "Why have you not let them pass? We are trying to evacuate the city," he reminded her offhandedly, turning back to them and lowering his voice in caution. "Watch your step; more than you know are looking for blood to be spilled." He melted back into the crowd. Wordlessly, they began to make their way pass the silently fuming Paran; she bumped deftly in Shayera's wings as she moved off in the opposite direction. Shayera froze in her tracks and shook her head vigorously, quickly catching up with them.
Paran watched silently from her place in the shadows of the still gargantuan crowd as they disappeared through the gates before activating the communicator on her wrist. The screen flickered briefly before a sharp image of a familiar face appeared on-screen.
"Report, Paran."
"I've done as you've asked, Hro." She failed horribly in trying to the keep the sarcasm from leaking into her voice. The man on-screen didn't seem pleased.
"I don't seem to remember such a swift rebuke from the planet when they knew me as such," he growled impatiently.
"Well, I seem to remember that you still got your ass beat at the end of it all." The man scowled.
"The job was taken care of effectively, then?"
"Fortunately; I think I psyched her out a little when I told her to mark my words, but that dolt, Dai, almost ruined all of my fun." She quickly bit her tongue as the man's eyes widened.
"You will treat him with respect, Paran," he told her fearfully.
Paran frowned. "I could care less about who his father is."
"I'd like to see you say that again to his father's face."
"He's little more than a child. He still speaks with the music of a child in his voice, for crying out loud." She felt her face beginning to redden. "I grow impatient with that little brat."
The man grinned widely, leaning in toward the screen.
"Patience, sweetheart, is exactly what counts the most right now." The screen flickered off.
Wally gently brushed Shayera's hair out of her face. "You feelin' better yet?"
Shayera glared at him.
"… I'm sorry; I didn't have a choice."
She sighed deeply, turning slightly from his touch. "I can't believe this…" She stared up at the ceiling. "Is it too late for me to go back to the tower?" Pleadingly, she glanced at Wally, but his frown didn't waver.
"We've been over this already, Shy; he'd kill me if he knew the truth. He wouldn't trust you to even the android, and that's saying something," Wally repeated once again. "You may be able to fool your employees, but I can't fool John. And besides that… I happen to value my life, and a few other aspects of my being, you know?"
"You told him?" Shayera bolted upright in the bed.
"No," Wally quickly replied. "He still doesn't know."
She leaned back only slightly. "Promise me you won't tell him."
"Believe you me, I won't; that's your place." He gently pulled the covers on the bed about her more securely. She moved back down under the covers, lying on one side as she faced him. He brought the palm of one hand up to her head, gently stroking back through her hair, and for a moment, she was staring into H'ryah's eyes again, knowing the unsettled look there was caused by her own lifeless demeanor, and she could feel Herin sitting uneasily at her back but trying to offer comfort in his own, clumsily but carefully stroking back her hair in the same manner Wally was now. "He deserves to know."
"You don't get how serious this is, Wally."
"I'd say I damn well do."
"You don't understand how complicated this is."
"But I think he'd understand and that he'd be there for you." Wally's voice rose slightly from the whisper it had been previously. He made sure he was holding her gaze before he softly added, "Either way."
"It's still so much more than that, Wally," Shayera shook her head. "It's an understanding."
"Do you think he wouldn't understand?"
"I think he'd be pretty hard-pressed."
"You should give him a chance; he deserves that much." I deserve a chance to understand, he thought. "You don't know how a person will handle things, or how they'll take them, or how they'll look at them, or what they'll do about it. You've got to understand that. You're not J'onn; you can't just look inside his mind whenever you want." He watched anxiously as the expression on her face slid into the same one of depression he'd been watching for the last few months. He inhaled deeply, and wasn't surprised at the heavy weight on his chest pressing the air back out.
"I used to be able to, though." Shayera moved from under Wally's hand gently and turned to the other side. "I need to sleep."
"Are you going to be ok?"
"I'll call you if I feel sick."
"You promise?"
"Scout's honor."
"You were never a scout," Wally grinned. He stood from the chair and walked quickly through the automatic doors and from the mini-infirmary on the Javelin.
"How is she?" Captain Atom inquired as Flash approached the captain's seat he sat in.
"Better. She's threatening to kill me for dragging her here, but I still mean it; even if now I have to physically pull her screaming and kicking back up here, she's coming. It's safer."
Captain Atom nodded in understanding. "So… what's going to happen?"
Wally shook his head. "I'm not sure."
He didn't ask another question for a moment as Wally settled into one of the co-pilot chairs and glanced through the window.
"…You want to… talk about it?" Captain Atom asked hesitantly.
"I don't know if… if anyone would understand," Wally whispered. Captain Atom squirmed slightly in his seat, feeling they were no longer talking about the same thing. "I mean… what if I'm wrong?"
"Wrong about what?" He prodded innocently.
"You and Green Arrow are friends with Kara; you know what."
"Right. Sorry."
"Don't be; I don't think I really know myself."
They remained in silence until Captain Atom had docked the Javelin, and Wally had retreated to awaken Shayera. Captain Atom switched off the controls, unbuckled himself from the seat, and stumbled down the ramp and from the ship with all the air of the military man he was until Kara flew into him tightly, hugging him.
"Hey, Kara," he smiled sheepishly as Green Arrow, bottle of water to his mouth, approached, eyes closed. He finally removed it from his mouth and glanced at Captain Atom.
"So, rust bucket? What was it like?"
"Don't ask me, pansy. All I did was fly the thing," Captain Atom replied stiffly. "But if the military taught me anything, it's when there's danger, and I'm telling you right now, it'd be in our best interest to get the hell out of dodge." Green Arrow quickly followed his gaze behind him and upward to observation level as Supergirl stared at him incredulously.
"For once, I'd say you were right," Green Arrow muttered as he caught sight of Green Lantern and J'onn leaning against the rail on either side of Batman and Diana, Superman acting his part as the leader at the center of the group.
John watched stoically as J'onn as Green Arrow protectively grabbed Supergirl's hand, and he, Captain Atom, and Kara quickly disappeared from view.
"Probably to the cafeteria to spread rumors," Diana mused sourly.
"I don't think so," J'onn replied as Superman leaped suddenly over the rail, falling easily to the ground and landing gracefully on his feet. Diana followed simultaneously with Batman, and J'onn shifted his body mass, becoming intangible as he slid through the floor and from view.
Wally appeared at the entrance to the Javelin, pausing as he looked to his left, then made his way down the ramp, Shayera's hand in his as he led her. They came to a halt side by side as their feet hit level ground.
For a moment, neither of them moved. The others had reassembled on the floor before them, a safe few yards away.
Superman was the first to move, stepping forward and hugging Shayera tightly as Wally let her hand slip from his.
"Welcome back, Shayera," he told her. When he pulled back, his face was lined with grief, his smile unfaltering, but not nearly as bright as Shayera remembered it once was. She glanced over his shoulders.
Batman slowly moved forward. "We have a situation, Ms. Hol."
"What do you mean?" Wally stepped before Shayera protectively.
"We're not going to hurt her, Flash; step aside. You're making a scene," the Dark Knight informed him tersely. Flash chose to ignore the fact that the operating team had indeed halted their jobs for the moment as they intently watched the original league members.
"We're in this together." Diana moved to stand beside the Bat. "All of us."
"Shayera," J'onn came forward, Superman glancing briefly at him before falling back in line with Diana and Batman. "I realize that the last time we communed, we parted on what could hardly be considered friendly terms. However, I can guarantee you that all of us present wish no ill-will upon you, as I know you have no ill-will upon us. At this point, there are far more important matter, one being that it has come to our attention that we are about to face a crisis."
"And when did this happen?" Flash frowned indignantly, still searching the other's faces skeptically. Batman and J'onn stared back at him with the same, hard, non-emotional expressions on their faces, Diana meeting his eyes in the same way as a teacher trying to get the ABC's through to a child who still didn't seem to get it. Superman seemed to be looking through him and to Shayera.
He stopped as realization hit him. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"We didn't think it fair to place the weight of what was happening on your shoulders, too," Diana replied shortly, her voice losing a vast amount of its edge.
"I'm a member of this team, too; I helped found the place just like you." Flash emphasized the point by not only raising his voice, but jabbing his thumb into his chest and stepping closer. "I don't think it was fair you guys didn't think I could handle knowing som–"
"We need to continue you this elsewhere," Batman cut in. He turned to J'onn. "Can you have your men clear out of the main monitor womb?"
J'onn eyes glowed briefly. "I have requested their departure."
Flash stared angrily between the two of them.
"We'll finish this there, then." The Bat turned to Flash. "I suppose this would make more sense if you were to actually see it, which is just as well; we need to check up on this as it is."
Wally continued to breathe heavily as his eyes slid closed and his head tilted upward, his tongue mumbling a prayer; slowly, his body slid down the wall to the ground, one of his hands tangled in his hair. Tim continued to stand motionless on the other side of the room.
"So… all we can do is wait?"
Dick nodded. "There's nothing we can do. I've never had many real dealings with Shayera, but…I'm assuming his body knows what it's doing. I'd already disconnected the medicines and outside aid that was being administered last week, when we first noticed something was wrong, so…."
Wally shook his head slowly as his body shook with silent sobs.
Tim's fists balled tightly before opening, then repeated the process a few more times. "How did they know? How could they know?"
Dick's head lowered slightly. "Truth be told, I'm not that surprised, considering, many native Earth materials could in theory be harmful to the point of lethal to an outside being, but…" he emphasized as Wally stiffened, "as far as I can tell, this particular poison's only intent was destruction of the immune system." Wally sighed deeply. "Of course…that could be far more heurism to overcome than deadly force. Bearing in mind Ishan's natural immune system seems to be more heavily influenced by his mother's genes and is already slightly unbalanced and underdeveloped as he's not yet mature, I'd say the most logical conclusion is that it's fighting against anything we try to give him as a natural instinct…but it's weak because of said poison." He paused, trying to keep the crack slowly tightening its grip on his voice from being evident to two other men present.
"His body had already…temporarily ceased many functions; possibly as soon as it happened, which means it's been running through this process the whole time; it shouldn't really have that much more of a job to complete. After some strenuous review…I can pretty much conclude it's a normal automatic reaction a Thanagarian body would have if it felt itself or its livelihood were threatened… and hope that I'm right."
"'Functions'… those happen to include his senses?"
"Yes."
Eyes dark and swallowing all light flooding into them, Wally gazed at Dick as if he couldn't really see him. "You mean…he isn't aware of… us? Of anything going on around him?"
Hesitantly, Dick's head showed affirmation. "In Layman's terms, yes, I guess that's what you would say." Silence entered the room. "Look, here's the thing; now that his body isn't working against what we thought was helping him, it can focus more on its current situation. I'd say he'll be up in two days at the most, and he should be fine, almost back to full health, maybe a little exhausted at the worst. But only if we allow his body to do as it need, which requires we keep any and all disturbances to a minimum, and allow the process to run its course. If we were to go against this….there's a chance when his body 'reboots', for lack of a better word, it might not start all functions again."
"Meaning, what, in other words, permanent loss of senses?" Tim questioned as Wally seemed to slip into another dimension all his own.
"Yes."
Dick cleared his throat several times, carefully observing the familiar parlor, looking for something, anything, to distract him from the here and now. His gaze wandered to the portraits of Joseph and Joshua accompanying that of Bruce's parents and of Bruce and Diana themselves. And though that alone was enough to tug at his heart, anything was better then facing his present company, acknowledge the pain evident on their faces.
His eyes lingered on a portrait of Bruce, his tired eyes soft as he cradled an infant to his chest, its crystal blue eyes at half mast as one tiny hand rested against his cheek. Dick hastily looked away; that wasn't something he'd like to think about at that particular moment, either.
"I'm going to go check on Josh," he muttered as he slinked out of the door and found himself pacing down the hallway as quickly as he could without technically running. He tried to calm his breathing, suddenly accentuated as his head began to pound; he shouldn't be thinking. Thinking wasn't good. Not in this house.
Thinking led to remembering; remembering led to pain.
Pain was in the past. They had to live in the here and now if they wanted to live at all.
Dick ducked into a room after stumbling through the wing he and every respectable member of the Batclan would rather die than visit. Concern for their livelihood, oddly enough, was usually the reason behind a visit in the first place. Plain beige walls greeted him, the same TV surrounded by movies of almost every known genre lined up along one of the walls; game controls were still out in front of it as if he himself had just stopped playing one of his favorite games after once again having gotten hurt seriously enough to be put on bed rest. There were laden bookcases, their burdens beaten and battered after much use; a few writing and drawing tablets lay scattered under the books' gaze, the sketches and drabbles not his hand, nor his style.
The bed covers were carefully folded back to one silky gray sheet, under which lay Bryant. He was carefully reading over something, propped up on his elbows, arms crossed as he laid on his stomach, eyes narrowed.
"How ya doin'?" Dick asked hesitantly.
"OK; back isn't sore anymore. I asked Brian to grab me a book, but…he had the mail from the front, and I think he accidentally left some behind. I… kinda… already read it...but I didn't understand it, anyway."
He held up said letter, grinning sheepishly, the small gray panel flickering to life as Bryant instinctively activated it and turned at an odd angle so he could watch Dick. Lines of text appeared on an abruptly existing blue screen, running by quickly from the bottom of the screen to the top. Dick moved closer and took the letter held out to him, silently loathing how thoroughly Thanagarian technology and ways had taken over their lives and society.
His fingers quickly swept over the screen, hitting the appropriate instructions, and the text disappeared, replaced with the letter's actual body, the Thanagarian characters smoothly melting into English. His eyes skimmed over it quickly, becoming darker with each moment. He threw it angrily as he approached the end, and the blue screen flickered again before going out as it bounced harmlessly, stopping as it came in contact with the bookcase.
Dick's face blanched. He seemed a lot more ominous suddenly as he swept a hand through his long, raven hair, but still didn't move from his spot.
"Damn it!" Dick hit the wall to his right hard, and Bryant was surprised he hadn't punched a hole through it. "Damn them all!"
"….Dick?"
Breathing heavily again, he covered his face with his arm, pulling it quickly across his face as if to wash something unpleasant from his countenance. For a moment he didn't speak.
"Get up; get dressed."
Richie shut his eyes tighter as the door opened quietly and muted footsteps, one pair lighter than the other, entered the room. Brian continued to snore lightly, and he heard the sheets rustling over the tread of whoever was entering the room as Bryant turned in his sleep. The rustling stopped, but so had the footsteps; they'd stopped walking. Richie waited tensely for the silence to be broken. Muddled….the voices were muddled, but he could make it out, if only barely in his subconscious.
"You know we don't…you don't have to do this."
"And if I don't?"
There wasn't an answer.
"We have to finish this now, before it gets worst…before something happens we'll regret, and then we'll never forgive ourselves knowing we could have stopped it."
"But that's just it; we can't stop it by ourselves, but they can! They can! They've been holding them off for years; centuries; millennia! Be reasonable…."
There was an awkward moment of silence.
"He needs you."
"Don't you think I know that? Why would I even consider this otherwise?"
Richie found himself holding his breath; he knew those voices, even in his subconscious. Especially in his subconscious. He'd hear the same two voices every day of his life waking up and going down for as long as he could remember…after his parents' voices had faded away. Whatever Shayera and Wally were discussing wasn't good. It sounded so familiar…but why?
"I'll be back soon; I promise."
His father. When was the last time he'd heard his father's voice?
He felt so comfortable in his father's arms…his head was buried in his neck, and the rumble of his father's chest as he spook soothed him ....And Raven…his sister, was in his father's arms, too…
"You can't be serious about this; it's su–"
His mother; why did she sound so worried?
"Promise me something."
"Anything."
"Take care of my little angels; that includes you."
No! He didn't want to move. He didn't want to let go of his dad's neck; not this time. But…why not? Raven whined in protest, and a baby started crying.
What? No, his dreams and reality were melting together.
"Promise."
See? Wally's voice, not his mom's…but why would he say that? Ishan; Ishan was the baby crying; now, not then. There was no baby then…but Ishan wasn't crying now, was he? He'd stopped by now; would he have stopped that quickly? Yes; that was plausible. Richie had just been dozing off…he was just exhausted….
See? No more crying; just his half-intelligible protests, harmonizing with Raven's. And a laugh, his dad's laugh, but it wasn't like usual. Something wasn't right. Something was wrong.
"I love you."
His dad didn't respond to his mother. Why? He felt his father hug them, he and his sister in his mom's arms and all.
"I'll come back."
No, Shayera's voice, not his dad's. Not his dad's? Why would Shayera say that? It didn't make sense…The door was pulled closed. He counted to ten slowly, squinted through his eyes for a few moments, making sure they were gone. Blinking in the darkness of the room, he sat slowly under the covers, glanced towards the end of his bed and to the left.
"Brian!" Brian readjusted himself in the bed, Richie's frantic whisper falling to deaf ears. Deciding he'd rather not risk waking anymore people than necessary, Richie pushed back the blankets on his bed, swung his legs over the edge, and dropped down to the floor silently. He darted across the room and hopped on Brian's bed, consequentially jolting Brian. With a groan, Brian sat and blinked, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands before scowling.
"You realize normal people are trying to sleep right now?"
"Since when have you been normal? And how can you sleep, knowing something's wrong?"
"It's not like we can do anything except keep doing what we usually do, and in the middle of the night, I'm usually asleep."
"You telling me you can actually act as if nothing's wrong?"
Brian's scowl weakened, his eyes darkening. "We don't know if something's wrong."
"Of course; that's why we're back at the Watchtower since God knows when, and Aunt Shay was freaking out."
"I don't think she'd like being described as 'freaking out'." Richie exhaled sharply.
"Whatever; just forget it," he whispered quickly, the tone in his voice suddenly becoming more urgent. "Look, did you just hear Ishan crying?"
Yawning, Brian shook his head. "You know I can't hear as well as you, though; that's a thick wall between these rooms, and I wasn't blessed with hearing that good."
Richie frowned. "That's besides the point; it's not that difficult to tell if a baby's crying."
"Well what's the big deal anyway?" He slipped from under his bed covers, folding his legs underneath him as he shook slightly in his dark blue wife-beater and boxers in the chill room.
"They're gone."
"Who?" Brian was suddenly more alert, casting a hasty guide to his brother's bed as he lowered his voice.
"Uncle Wally; and Aunt Shay," Richie replied. "They left."
"They left? Why would they leave? How do you know that?"
"I told you, something isn't right." Brian leaned back, his legs drawn up to his chest, bare arms wrapped around them, and sighed deeply. "Don't give me that; this is just too sudden, too weird. I mean…Didn't you see them? They were panicked; there was so much fear…"
"'Them'? Who are you talking about, Kal?"
"The Thanagarians, Joseph!" Richie hissed slightly louder than he intended, and both boys' eyes grazed over Bryant, still asleep, before locking onto the other's heatedly. "You can't tell me you didn't see it; you know what I'm talking about." His voice grabbed Brian, intended to shake him until he'd agree.
The scowl reappeared. "I know that you overreact, Richard."
Silence. The air between them rose in temperature, thickened until they were blinded to each other. "You know, too. Look, I heard them… talking."
"About …what?"
"I don't know…but it sounded familiar…and I didn't like it." Richie looked down to his legs, picked at his knee as he sat Indian style on the mused covers. "Can you…remember? The last time? You saw them, I mean."
"…I try not to."
"Why?"
"…There's something about it that just seems…"
"… That that's it?"
Brian looked down and didn't move for a moment, then crawled back under his covers, turned his back to Richie. "Yeah."
Brian didn't turn around as he felt Richie finally slide off the bed and heard him climb clumsily into his own, adjust himself under the covers. It wasn't hard to not open his eyes once he closed them and turned his back on Richie, the tears lingering on his eyelashes as they yet remained pressed together.
No, he didn't want to remember the last time he'd heard his parents, lain in his mother's arms, hugged his dad good-bye, true though he could remember it better than staying up with Alfred waiting for his dad to get back in, stealing a bite of cake from his dad's dessert plate and smiling innocently at his mother just because he could. It had only been a year ago…maybe a little over. Exact amounts weren't important to the four-year old. He at least knew it was only a few months before Ishan was born….
Which led him to another thought that, had he been fully awake, would have made his eyes snap open, caused his feet to race over to push Richie into shared realization, would have had him screaming in alarm and confusion and uncertainty all at the same time instead of merely mumbling it almost inaudibly to himself as a troubled sleep came and claimed him, carried him off.
"Why do you ask?"
"Just wondering," Dick answered.
"….I don't know."
Wally frowned. "What do you mean, 'you don't know'?"
"Exactly what I said, Carrot-top; I –don't –know."
"…I want you to tell me what the hell is wrong." Wally insisted.
"Nothing's wrong, idiot," she grumbled.
"Yes there is," Wally insisted. "Come on, Shy, it's us."
"….he's never cried," Shayera whispered almost inaudibly.
Tim's forehead creased as he frowned and his eyes narrowed to slits as he stood and faced Shayera. "'He's never cried'? What's that supposed to mean?" Tim ignored the warning Wally gave him about waking up the kids.
Brian hadn't thought it wise to tell Wally it was technically Richie and Ishan they should worry about waking up; he and the others just so happened to be already wide awake and outside of the door to the living room they sat in .
The adults just didn't know it yet.
"…he's never cried?" Tim asked again almost inaudibly.
Who? screamed Brian's mind. Dick cried; Tim cried. He knew Wally cried, and they couldn't be talking about Alfred because even Chris knew he'd been crying since before they were born. And they couldn't have been talking about one of them, because every last one of them had definitely cried at one point.
It suddenly clicked in his mind as he glanced back at the others.
"Ishan doesn't cry."